


Narrow Miss

by Sayl



Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-25
Updated: 2018-09-25
Packaged: 2019-07-17 14:03:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16097135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sayl/pseuds/Sayl
Summary: After the defeat of Grima, a skirmish in Northern Regna Ferox requires the help of the Shepherds. But a close call has Lissa more worried about her lover than usual.





	Narrow Miss

**Author's Note:**

> Another tumblr prompt I did for the Lissa I RP with so there's some mild references to threads we've done, but nothing major that would cause any confusion.

A skirmish in northern Ferox had escalated. What had at first been believed to be a group of bandits rebelling turned out to be a full scale uprising from one of the northern provinces, wanting to split Ferox further so they could appoint a North Khan, and increase their chances of taking power over the nation as a whole.

    Many of Ferox’s forces were forced to remain at the borders after a potential threat from the seas had been rumored, and military was spread thin as it was. Without leaving the capital unattended, there wasn’t much that could be offered for the Norther territory: likely right in line with their plans. So Flavia had called for assistance from the Shepherds in Ylisse, dispatching them to the North along with Basilio and his personal regiment: Lon’qu included. 

   As much as he enjoyed the chance to see Lissa again, he did wish it was under better circumstances. They’d fought together for years in the past, before they’d confessed their feelings for each other. The thought of going onto a battlefront with her now had him even more on edge than it used to. She was more than capable, but that wouldn’t quell his fear of her getting hurt…It was unlikely anything ever would, after he’d almost seen her fall once when he was too far away to protect her. 

   But due to limited medics in Ferox, she actually wasn’t on the front lines at all this time, her expertise needed elsewhere in the medical tents with Maribelle and a few others. He didn’t have to worry about her as much there away from the thick of the fighting, but there was something else that had him uneasy.

_One of the scouts had warned them the enemy had a large regiment of archers._

The swordsman’s mind can’t help but wander back to the day he took an arrow for Lissa, though it seemed like ages ago now. It doesn’t stray from the warning from the future that he died by arrows. Facing archers didn’t have the same context as it used to these days, not when that warning would always haunt the back of his mind. And training with Virion had only shown him how impossible they were to dodge if the archer knew what they were doing. 

    And at some point during that battle, he’d lost consciousness. It was a few minutes later before he started to come around, blurred vision seeing the world move around him as a few pairs of hands carry his limp form into the tent. He isn’t entirely aware of what’s happening, only semi-conscious. But he recognizes her voice as soon as he hears it, forcibly trying to shake the fuzziness in his mind as he’s laid out on one of the tables. 

    Lissa’s face comes into view, hands immediately moving to check his vital signs, despite his partially open eyes and steady breathing. He can see the look of worry on her face, biting her lip as she focuses on her duty. Why was she so worried? He wasn’t dying…At least he didn’t think he was. He doesn’t remember what had knocked him out though. It isn’t until he overhears Gregor’s voice mention “concussion” and “shield”. That must be the throbbing pain in the back of his skull that’s he’s feeling. He tries to shift, but a sharp pain in the crook of his right shoulder causes him to wince. He glances over to see an arrow jutting out. 

    That must be why she looks so worried. The sudden bout of pain on his fragile consciousness knocks him out again. 

* * *

    A while later, Lon’qu wakes up, coherent this time. He no longer hears the distant sounds of battle. He’s been moved to a cot, the tent falling quiet and dark now. He doesn’t know if the battle is over or simply suspended. Either way, he’s glad to be awake. His torn, bloodstained coat and tunic had been removed, leaving his bare chest with little more than some bandaging wrapped around it. With a pained groan, he slowly sits up in the makeshift bed, one hand moving to hold the sore spot where he’d been injured, phantom pains still plaguing his arm. His movement catches Lissa’s attention and she immediately beelines around the grid of injured soldiers, heading straight for the corner he’d been laid in. 

    She embraces him immediately, burying her face in his chest. But the angle is awkward from how he’s positioned. Despite his lacking strength and pained arm, she’s light enough, and he wraps his arms around her, pulling her up so she’s sideways in his lap. It’s not a usual action for him, but she seems incredibly distraught, more-so than usual despite how many times she’s healed him in the past. He isn’t sure why, but doesn’t ask right away, instead holding her there in the silence, his chin resting atop her head as she tries to keep her shoulders from shaking. 

     He tries to reassure her, telling her that everything’s fine in a gentle whisper to keep from waking any of the other injured warriors, and to try and maintain what little privacy they have in that dim corner of the tent. She pulls away from him slightly, not saying anything at first as she reaches for something on the bedside table. She hands it to him, and he realizes what it is right away. Unaccustomed to wearing armor of any sort, he’d completely forgotten about it. 

    It’s a lightweight metal chest plate, just enough to cover the left half of his chest area over the heart. When he’d heard of how many archers were spotted during the skirmish, he’d taken the extra precaution, digging the unworn chest piece out of his armory to wear under his tunic. And when he tilts the smooth metal in the firelight, he sees what has her so upset.

    In the center of the plate is a small dent, a deep scratch accompanying it. It wasn’t pierced through, the handiwork having done its job, but it’s very obvious that it had been hit by a large arrow. Without the armor there, it could have easily killed him on the spot. 

_I can’t lose you.._.she whispers to him, voice still shaken. And though it’s a jarring realization for him to see that damage to the plate, a sad smile crosses his face. This was exactly the reason he’d worn it into battle, despite his dislike of heavy armor weighing him down. It’s a bitter reminder of his own mortality, but also a powerful reassurance that he _can_  cheat death with enough vigilance. 

    Gently, he reaches to place the armor back on the table before turning back to her. A large, calloused hand reaches up to brush a loose tendril of blonde hair behind her ear, though his hand shakes from the foreignness of the action. He still isn’t completely accustomed to touching her this way.  _ **“**  You won’t  **,”**  _he whispers back, hand now behind her head as he rests his forehead against hers.

    _**“** I have too many promises to keep to allow that to happen **.”**_ When they’d been captured together and she made him promise they’d  _both_  make it out alive, he’d taken that to heart. He’d sworn to protect her when her life had been threatened by assassins years ago, another promise made for a specific situation.

    But there was no expiration on these promises, and he can’t protect her if he dies. For whatever reasons, she’d chosen to have him by her side. It’s not a position he’s willing to relinquish so easily. The fates would have to pry it from his cold, dead hands: And he doesn’t plan to give them the opportunity. 

_**“**  I’m not going anywhere. I will remain at your side for as long as you will it  **.”**_


End file.
